Okay. I wanted to tell you why Friday night’s concert experience started off with a very livid me. I was going to start this post with all of the reasons I have to walk down the street with pepper spray out “just in case” — you know — because I was born with ovaries — and identify as a cisgender woman.
My scheduled programming is interrupted as I just got a Facebook friend request from someone who I KNOW fucking RAPED someone I deeply care about — some years back.
Soooooo. THAT actually happened, in real life. This “friend” request. Jesus Christ.
And I don’t know how to process it all quite yet. I wanted to immediately reply via message “are you fucking serious? I know you raped __________. I’d rethink wanting into my life.“
But I stopped myself.
It’s not my place.
It wouldn’t help anyone at this point.
And it’s not my story to tell.
So I won’t.
I just can’t fucking believe people.
I won’t click on his profile, but from the picture alone it looks like he has children since we were friends in real life. If my father was a rapist I’d be pretty fucked up, I’d think. I hope they NEVER know that part of him.
We have a number of mutual friends in common. I’d love for them to know what kind of person he is — BUT I keep secrets I’m asked to keep.
To be 100% clear — I am not making any type of threat to him — about him — regarding him — however it needs to be heard/read/said to you. Because I will not let that shit into my life.
So, as I “pray” on THAT — so to speak — I need some time to finish writing my post about what I have to do now to feel safe.
Basically it starts with an incident not that long ago.
December 8th was the six year anniversary of me getting chased to my car by two men — in a parking deck.
People could have intervened but did not — and one of the men almost caught me. He wouldn’t get off of my car for what felt like an eternity.
I had never been so terrified in my entire life. Now, I know better. Well, to my credit — I already knew better then.
I am extremely anxious by nature which makes me super observant and hyper vigilant and a quick thinker in emergencies — situations which you never want to be in — well — at least I certainly don’t.
I was lucky I was able to make — and execute — a plan.
I’ll share the full story when I’m feeling less angry at all the above, but believe me I’ll share it soon. I hope tomorrow if I’m up to it.
I intend to share snapshots of what I posted on Facebook about it six years ago, and what my Facebook friends commented in reply to that post.
I will, of course, protect their identities.
But it needs to be seen to understand the full story. People accidentally, I believe, or at least unintentionally, blamed me in some ways in those comments. And that wasn’t okay then, and it’s not now.
People say it’s the fault of a victim for what she was wearing. Here’s me that night. Think I was asking for it?
I was only a victim of attempted assault then…damn.